


obsessive affairs

by nagase (machogwapito)



Category: Japanese Actor RPF, Johnny's Entertainment, TOKIO
Genre: M/M, Pedophilia, Transistor G Girl AU, dub-con, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 11:25:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2579786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machogwapito/pseuds/nagase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nagase Tomoya starts to work for considerably successful nightclub Glamour. Matsuoka can't stop watching him.</p><p>(Mentions of pedophilia, non-con, etc., though not outright written/graphically described.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	obsessive affairs

**Author's Note:**

> I started this a while back after watching the Transistor G Girl PV hoping to write PWP. And then it grew a plot. And I tried (a.k.a. rushed) it to get it done by Tomoya's birthday. So here it is?
> 
> It's so bad. So unedited. So flimsy.
> 
> Happy 36th birthday, Tomo~

When the man first sets foot into Glamour, resume in hand and a cigarette between his lips, Matsuoka knows almost immediately that he's going to be hired. He's tall and long-legged, the right dab of masculine, has expressive brown eyes that could be killer with the right make-up--and he knows even before the stranger asks him where he could possibly find the club owner that he's going to be a personality. It doesn't matter what job he's actually looking for. Regardless of his choice, he'll be well-known.

The lilt of the guy's voice when he speaks is high, perhaps higher than Matsuoka would have expected from a face like that. He takes his eyes off of the shape of his nose, off the artful spike of his hair, and gestures off to the side where the man (who introduces himself as Nagase Tomoya, call him Nagase) can find the owner, Kitagawa.

"You work here too?" Nagase asks before he leaves, grinning.

"I'm the band's drummer," Matsuoka says plainly.

"Hmmm." Nagase's teeth are white and straight, but they may as well have the sharpness of fangs. "If Kitagawa lets me in, I'll be your vocalist."

Matsuoka doesn't know what to think of the smooth draw of Nagase's voice at the word 'your', nor at the way Nagase's eyes trail down Matsuoka's neck and torso and maybe even lower before returning to his eyes, but he doesn't get the chance to really think about it before Nagase walks past him and to the back where Kitagawa will no doubt end up hiring him.

* * *

"So this new guy," Taichi says in the back room, "you met him, right?"

Matsuoka looks up from where he's wiping down his drumsticks. He nods his head, keeping it ducked just enough so his sunglasses don't end up falling off the top of his head and sliding to his nose. "Yeah," he agrees. His voice is quiet.

"Johnny-san says he's good," Taichi continues.

"Yeah."

"Tatsuya heard him sing, you know."

Matsuoka's head lifts, and the way Taichi's lips form a cheeky smirk tells him that his curiosity was obvious. _Damn it._

"He said Nagase was good, too. Has some kinda husky quality to his voice or some shit, I don't know."

Matsuoka raises a brow. "His speaking voice is high," he says blandly.

"Yeah, well." Taichi laughs, switching his button-down shirt for a simple tee. "Guess we'll hear it for ourselves later at practise, right?"

Matsuoka's head ducks again, and he realises he's been wiping down the same drumstick the entire time. So he picks up the next one.

* * *

Nagase has a song with him. It's called Transistor G Girl, which apparently he'd already shown to Yamaguchi. It explains how Yamaguchi got to hear him sing before the rest of them, but Matsuoka learns later on that it'd been pure chance that he'd come across Nagase's audition at all. Nagase plays the rhythm guitar on his own while he sings, Yamaguchi standing back (though Matsuoka notices his fingers moving over the neck of his bass guitar and concludes that he's already got some kind of hold over the tune).

Like Taichi said, his voice sounds husky. Not quite deep--Matsuoka can tell Nagase can probably reach intensely high notes if he tried--but rough around the edges.

It sounds almost fake, but Matsuoka looks around him and sees no hint of suspicion whatsoever on the others' faces.

"It's a quick-tempo'd song," Nagase says. "It's gonna need some brass, but I think it'll sound good even without it. Just two guitars, a bass, piano, and drums." His eyes fall on each of them when he enunciates each of their instruments, and Matsuoka tells himself he's imagining the split-second hesitance Nagase has when he looks at him before finally distributing the sheets of paper.

Joshima's the first to speak. "You didn't specify the tabs for guitar," he says. "Just chords?" The question on his lips belies his surprise.

"Oh, yeah." Nagase shrugs. "We're a band, right? So let's work together to build this song."

It's an interesting concept. Back when Kojima had been the frontman, Kitagawa had done most of everything for them, except for the few times Joshima's lyrics were recognised and put in.

Taichi hums. "You sure you aren't just a lazyass?"

Nagase's eyes twinkle. "I never said I wasn't."

Matsuoka heads to his drumset, fingers skimming the edge of a snare drum. "So we won't be performing this tonight," he murmurs slowly. "Right?"

"Nagase's memorised our other songs," Yamaguchi provides.

"The ones Kojima used to sing?" Taichi laughs and Yamaguchi actually smiles with him, understanding the disbelief. "No shit? Their voices are so different--"

Nagase huffs. "Have a little faith in the new guy, Kokubun-san."

Nobody ever calls Taichi by his last name, so there's a stretch of silence where they all let it sink in--that Nagase is, in fact, a new guy.

"So!" Joshima starts, clapping his hands together. "Let's start practise then, yes?"

And that's the end of that.

* * *

The night goes as Matsuoka expected it would go. When Nagase steps out of the backroom with make-up on and some shape painted on the side of his face, girls coo and point and Matsuoka's almost jealous of how popular Nagase's become in a grand total of ten seconds. They don't have to perform immediately, so they cater to the guests--Taichi's talking to the women gathered by his keyboard, Matsuoka's got a few of his own, Yamaguchi's with his usual crew of older men he can talk to about fishing or some other mature hobby, and Joshima's discussing politics with rich businessmen.

A slight turn of his head has his eyes finding Nagase's body, women standing or sitting around him. Nagase sits with his legs spread and a glittering pipe he smokes with, and everyone's laughing so loud at his jokes Matsuoka wonders if they're even funny at all, or if they're just laughter brought about by people wanting to sleep with him.

Of course, he doesn't have a lot of time to watch. There are women he has to entertain, after all. Turning back to them with a smile that doesn't reach the eyes behind his sunglasses, Matsuoka gives them a bullshit story about a supposedly traumatic experience back in Sapporo involving bulldogs and snow. Nobody can tell he's lying, but Matsuoka's always been pretty good at making things up if he has to.

They perform later, and Nagase's voice melds around words that had been Kojima's with an expertise that nobody expects. He plays guitar and grasps the mic and sings his heart out, and sometimes he goes around the small stage and play by Yamaguchi's side or by Joshima's, or even Taichi's. Matsuoka doesn't expect Nagase to come to the drumset--it's bulky and too far from the rest--and he doesn't, but Nagase does him one up and looks back at him with a wink as he lolls out the word 'affair', each syllable curling off his tongue with frightening suggestion.

Matsuoka nearly fucks up his drum solo, but he catches himself before that can happen and pulls off the song with aplomb.

They perform an entire set and the crowd is appeased. More than that, they love it--even more than they loved them when Kojima was vocalist, maybe. Nagase practically pours alcohol down the outside of his throat instead of the inside of his mouth when he tries to 'cool himself off', spilling way too much around his lips and jaw, but the girls love it and they call him a wild man.

Wild is one thing, Matsuoka figures. He returns to his own crowd with numb arms and feels thankful nobody'd noticed the way he'd nearly slipped up earlier.

An affair with Nagase Tomoya.

Yeah, right.

* * *

The club closes in the wee hours and they all leave, and Taichi grabs Matsuoka's attention to point out the way Nagase walks home with his arm wrapped around a woman's waist. "He works fast!" Taichi whispers, and Matsuoka can hear the small note of frustration in his voice. Each of them are desirable in their own right, Matsuoka knows. He's had his fair share of sleeping with clients, and Taichi, too. They just hadn't ever been able to do it within a day of working for Glamour. Not even Yamaguchi, who can charm both woman and man with ease, had been that good. Or at least that's what Matsuoka knows as much as Joshima's mentioned.

Then again--Matsuoka remembers the way Nagase's eyes roam, the way Nagase'd practically cooed out the promise of affair at him on stage--and maybe Nagase's general disposition makes it easy to think of him as someone you could sleep with.

He doesn't think too hard about it, instead going to help Joshima with getting his hair out of its pompadour. Matsuoka doesn't understand why he insists it to be in such a style all the time, but he doesn't make any rude comments about it as he tries to flatten it out. Taichi does enough teasing when Joshima starts to whine about Matsuoka's fingers tugging too hard to get a knot out.

* * *

Matsuoka wakes up a good four hours before he's actually needed to be awake to loud pounding at his door. He groans and fumbles for the glasses on his nightstand before finally walking over, yet to change out of the button down and pants he'd worn to work just a few hours ago. Of all the people to expect on the other side, he doesn't expect Nagase--Nagase with lipstick on his neck and his shirt buttoned on wrong.

"Matsuoka-san!" Nagase says with a smile.

Matsuoka moves to close the door again, but he's interrupted by the shape of Nagase's booted foot between the door and its frame.

Nagase's face fits in the gap this makes. "Can I stay before work?" he asks casually, like he and Matsuoka are close, like they've been close for years and he asks this all the time.

"What the hell makes you think I'll say yes?" Matsuoka argues, maybe sounding colder than he intends to. But he'd just woken up, so it isn't his fault. At least that's what he thinks.

Nagase huffs. "Because you're a nice guy."

"Whoever told you that is lying." Matsuoka pulls the door back a little so he can try slamming it again, but Nagase's hand presses against the edge of the door to keep that from happening.

"Matsuoka-san, please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"I'm not leaving until you say yes, so you're never gonna be able to go back to sleep."

Matsuoka actually has to pause at that, and he realises he took too long to think about it because Nagase's grinning at him like he knows Matsuoka's going to say yes. The damn kid.

He grumbles. "Take a shower before you touch anything," he says.

Nagase's eyes are practically sparkling, and Matsuoka looks away because he can't handle the genuine happiness in them.

He just let him _stay over_ , for Christ's sake.

He opens the door a centimetre wider, but Nagase makes up for it by opening it all the way and entering his flat like he owns it, boots put off to the side.

"I don't have any clothes," Nagase says on his way to the bathroom. Matsuoka should've figured.

The bathroom door closes, and Matsuoka goes through his closet before pulling out a pair of pants and a shirt. He enters the bathroom just to put them on the toilet seat, along with hanging an extra towel on the rack. If he'd been paying close attention, he would've seen Nagase furiously scrubbing himself behind the translucent shower curtain.

Matsuoka ends up waking up again because Nagase climbs into bed with him and wraps his arms around his waist. He kicks Nagase off the mattress and yells at him to take the couch, and after that the rest of their time is peaceful until they have to go to work.

* * *

"Matsuoka's purple looks good on you," is the first thing Taichi says when the two of them enter Glamour together a few minutes past four in the afternoon. Nagase grins toothily and Matsuoka rolls his eyes.

Even Yamaguchi joins in. "It actually fits Nagase really well, huh?" he says. Matsuoka looks at him and hopes his eyes flash the word _traitor_.

"It's because they're both so tall," Joshima offers, but unlike Yamaguchi, Matsuoka doesn't have the heart to glare at him at all.

"Let's just get to practise," Matsuoka mumbles.

The last thing he hears is Taichi's 'you even smell like Matsuoka's shampoo!'.

* * *

Practise goes much the same way as it did the other day, except Nagase hangs around Joshima a lot on account of the fact that he'd finished up his lead guitar for Transistor G Girl. It's brilliant, really. In one day Joshima's already done that much, but a glance to Yamaguchi has Matsuoka realising that he's more or less done with the bass, too (but maybe Yamaguchi doesn't count; he'd heard the song before all of them, after all). Taichi, at least, is still at much of a loss as Matsuoka is. He takes comfort in that more than he probably should.

Work, in the same light, is also uneventful. Nagase is fawned over, Matsuoka watches out of the corner of his eye, and he tells himself it doesn't make a different whether or not there's a woman whose fingers keep trailing along Nagase's leather-clad thigh. He busies himself with the company of rich ladies and alcohol, and by the end of the night he has a good amount of money in his pocket.

The club is always quiet and a little ghostly at the end, sans the few people who sadly end up passing out and have nobody to take them home. Yamaguchi and Matsuoka carry them one by one outside, their bodies gently propped up against the wall of the club. It's not the safest place, but they have to close up, and nobody's keen on keeping a couple of drunkards in a place full of expensive drinks and equipment.

"Maybe Nagase goes home with women so he doesn't have to deal with clean-up," Yamaguchi mentions thoughtfully as he and Matsuoka walk back inside.

"That's irresponsible of him," Matsuoka mumbles next.

* * *

Today Matsuoka's door is knocked on while he's brushing his teeth before bed, so he spits out his toothpaste and hollers a 'hold on!' before quickly rinsing his mouth and gargling. Of course, halfway across his living room, he comes to a sudden realisation, and he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before calling out a calm, "Nagase?"

"How did you know?" comes the cheerful voice behind the wood, so Matsuoka rolls his eyes and turns right around on his heel, heading to his bedroom.

Not more than fifteen seconds later, there's knocking again, and Matsuoka frowns in the middle of pulling a t-shirt over his head. Then he pulls it the rest of the way and smoothes it over his body. He crawls into bed, tugs the blanket over his head, and tells himself to go to sleep before he ends up exhausted later.

But then the knocking continues, and from outside he hears a very muffled "Matsuoka-san?", and _Christ_ , if Nagase doesn't sound innocent. There's a shocking amount of genuine confusion in his tone, which Matsuoka supposes is funny in an annoying kind of way. But innocent or not, his flat isn't meant for two people, and the idea of letting Nagase in a second time and having to do twice the laundry again and make twice the same amount of food--

"I'm sorry!" Nagase finally says.

Matsuoka hopes that means he's leaving.

And yet... he removes the blanket from over his head, looking back to his bedroom doorway to the living room and the menacing front door. He looks for a grand total of three seconds, and remembers how difficult it is to be the new guy in town. He remembers how he'd used to stay at Yamaguchi's place all the time, if there weren't any girls there the older man had to entertain. So before he can tell himself not to, he slips out of bed, bare feet touching the floor, and grumbles as he makes his way and rests his hand on the knob. Then he turns it open and sticks his head out, seeing Nagase's back getting smaller and smaller as it heads down the hallway.

"Hey, Nagase," he starts, but he doesn't have the will to continue after Nagase turns to face him and this look of absolute hope steals Matsuoka's breath away.

Nagase doesn't budge from his spot. "Can I stay?" he asks as clarification.

"... yeah," Matsuoka says in reply.

Words can't quite explain the way Nagase bounds down the hallway in quick strides. Words can't explain the happiness on his face as he stands directly in front of where Matsuoka is, either.

Matsuoka weakly steps back to give him room, and Nagase grins as he takes his shoes off and puts them to the side, chirping out a happy 'thank you'. Then he goes to take a shower.

* * *

"Again?" Taichi gasps as Nagase walks in right behind Matsuoka into the backroom.

Matsuoka tells him to shut it while the rest of the band laughs, and he chooses not to pay attention to the grin on Nagase's mouth.

* * *

Taichi's already got the beginnings of his keyboards figured out--it's going to be mostly piano, he says. Yamaguchi-kun is finalising his basslines and Nagase sits with Joshima so he can switch up his own initial chords to match Joshima's licks. Matsuoka sits at the drums and he knows the general beat of the song (he can tap it on his lap while Nagase sings, actually, and he would do it all the time if it didn't make Nagase look at him with an amused smile almost every time), but he doesn't yet know how to give it flair.

Nagase grabs a stool and brings it close to where Matsuoka sits, and almost on instinct Matsuoka feels himself leaning away.

Nagase doesn't look any perturbed. "Don't tell me you're still on square one, Matsuoka-san," he says, actually having the nerve to sound appalled. Without thinking Matsuoka knocks the tip of his drumstick against Nagase's forehead, and he doesn't even try to pretend he doesn't feel smug when Nagase lets out a small wince and lightly rubs the spot he'd been hit in.

"It takes time to make art," Matsuoka states, "stupid."

Nagase laughs, boisterous and happy despite the fingers that still periodically rub over his forehead. "You got a point there," he admits, his hand dropping onto his knee--and only when Matsuoka feels Nagase's fingertips touching his _own_ knee in the process does he realise how close they're sitting together.

"I just wanna hear what you'll come up with," Nagase murmurs, somehow managing to sound borderline shy. Matsuoka blinks and looks at him, and then nods his head, suddenly feeling the weight of his slacking. "I'll work on it," he mumbles, absently striking a cymbal and hearing the resounding rattle. "So quit your nosing around, Nagase."

Nagase smiles sheepishly. "Can't help that I'm interested," he says, and Matsuoka would've felt flattered someone cared about his drumming if Nagase hadn't been looking at his face all the while.

Matsuoka hits him again. "You'll be the first I let hear it, promise."

Nagase's answering smile could move mountains, and deep down Matsuoka worries about it because he's nothing but a hill.

* * *

The next morning when the club closes, Nagase's nowhere to be found as usual. And also as usual, just when Matsuoka's about to go to sleep, Nagase turns up on his doorstep with a sheepish expression and his lips a swollen pink colour. Matsuoka rolls his eyes and sprays Nagase with floral-scented sanitiser 'to get the filth off of him', and Nagase actually laughs as he tries to run away to the bathroom and escape Matsuoka's deadly poison.

The door slams and Matsuoka hits the side of his fist against the wood meaningfully.

"Don't use all the hot water this time, idiot!" Matsuoka shouts at the restroom door, and all he gets in response is the shower being turned to a higher pressure almost to prove some rebellious point. He nearly feels irritated, but then the loud spray suddenly turns into a soft one, like Nagase really hadn't intended to waste all the water this time.

"Idiot," Matsuoka murmurs again, almost-smiling.

And then it occurs to him at this point that he's standing in front of a bathroom and listening to Nagase showering.

Mourning the golden days of when there were once _some_ things that genuinely interested him, Matsuoka files this away under 'things never to bring up again' and prepares Nagase's set of clothes to wear later.

Much later, Matsuoka realises that he's genuinely interested in Nagase Tomoya, call him Nagase.

While Nagase sleeps, Matsuoka picks up a pair of chopsticks and some cups and glasses and decides maybe he'll be all right without sleep tonight.

* * *

The same routine continues the rest of the week with a couple of changes. For one thing, Nagase comes home looking more and more presentable until, on Saturday, his shirt is completely buttoned and his hair doesn't look mussed up at all. On Sunday, he doesn't go home with a girl at all, and instead asks Matsuoka if he can come home with him instead. Taichi looks at the both of them with a raised brow and Matsuoka pointedly ignores him, even when Nagase leans his cheek against Matsuoka's shoulder and he literally has to prop the guy up to take him home.

Nagase drinks too much alcohol at work. Matsuoka wonders how much of the smell burns away when he sleeps with women--how much of it is washed away in the scents of perfume and sex--because he doesn't remember ever really smelling vodka and whiskey and all sorts of things on Nagase as poignantly as he does during this trip home.

Nagase nearly stumbles and Matsuoka catches him expertly. "Easy," he mumbles, trying to keep the younger man steady, and Nagase laughs a bit and murmurs a soft apology as he leans against him.

"You're a really good guy, Matsuoka-san," he murmurs into his sleeve. They're silent a while, but then Matsuoka tells him to shut the hell up and try to stand up straight instead.

And boy, does Nagase try.

* * *

"I think," Nagase says on Wednesday as they eat their breakfast, "I have to start paying rent here, huh."

Matsuoka shrugs his shoulders. "Your being here never made a difference to my fees," he answers truthfully. Nagase's always so scarce with the water he uses, and he never tries to get the heater working even on the cold nights he has to spend on the sofa. Besides groceries, there isn't much Matsuoka spends exponentially more on.

"I feel guilty crashing here all the time, though," Nagase mumbles, poking at his omelette.

Matsuoka stares. "Don't play with your food," he says.

So Nagase stops.

"Look, you're new to the job and I'm not. I don't mind you not paying rent if you can't." Matsuoka puts some rice into his mouth, chewing and swallowing. "And if you have to use my flat for living space everyday, I'm guessing you don't have much to begin with."

Nagase's lips twitch as he ducks his head. "Yeah, but..."

"But?"

"I still wanna thank you somehow."

For a moment, Matsuoka considers throwing his fork at Nagase for being such a stubborn kid. And then he presses his lips to his knuckle as his elbow rests on the table, thinking back to the time with the bathroom. The time he accepted that Nagase Tomoya was an interesting person and that he wanted to know who he was.

Nagase swallows a mouthful of rice. "What?" he asks.

"Information," Matsuoka replies after an extended silence.

"Infor--?"

"About yourself."

Nagase blinks.

"I don't know a thing about you, right?" Matsuoka scoops another bit of omelette, putting it into his mouth. He looks to Nagase with clear seriousness in his eyes. "So introduce yourself."

"You're not gonna say anything, though?"

Matsuoka's lips twitch. "You live in my god damn _flat_ , stupid. If you still don't know a thing about me I'd think you were brain dead."

Nagase lets that sink in a moment before he nods his head, poking at his omelette with his fork again. Matsuoka's eyebrow raises, and though he wants to tell Nagase not to do that again, he allows the man this nervous habit if only to get him to calm down. Why Nagase needs to be calm as far as talking about himself is something Matsuoka supposes has to do with some tragic backstory.

Or whatever.

For what it's worth, Nagase doesn't make a big deal about his past when he talks about it.

* * *

"There was a kid named Tomoya," Nagase starts quietly, scratching at his stubble. When he speaks this time it's with less of the idiotic, happy confidence Matsuoka usually associates with him. "He had a big sister named Mari and a mother named Misuzu, and his papa left them when he was a little kid."

"He started working when he was young to help make up for not having his dad around. Him _and_ his sister." The omelette's turned into hash, essentially. It no longer has a form or a shape. But Matsuoka's already forgotten to feel angry about it as he finishes up the last of his own breakfast.

"He delivered newspapers and milk. When he grew older he delievered mail. And then when he grew even _older_ and realised he couldn't wear his shorts as uniform on his mail routes without the grown-ups looking at him funny, he asked himself why.

"Tomoya liked his shorts. He wore them ever since he was little. Tomoya liked his long hair, too, because his mama wanted him to have it. She said it reminded her of his father, and he couldn't say no to a beautiful woman like her. People liked his shorts, too, of course. Men especially liked his long hair. Women liked that he barely grew anything on his jaw or under his arms. But Tomoya didn't understand why they had to stare at him all the time.

"Tomoya disappeared the day he spent an hour longer than usual to deliver mail. Nobody noticed, though, because someone else came home to take his place immediately. This replacement's name was Nagase, and Nagase wore shorts because he knew why people were giving him funny looks and knew he needed the attention.

"Nagase got way more money than Tomoya did. He got so much that Mari got to stop working and pursue her dream of going to college. He said the reason he was getting so rich was because mailmen had all their salaries raised and that they were allowed to accept tips. He said it was because the economy was getting better. He had no idea what he was talking about, but the grown-ups taught him the right things to say every time he came home with almost a thousand yen.

"Everyone was happy until Mari saw Nagase going into her college professor's car. After that, money didn't make her happy any more. And it didn't make Misuzu happy, either.

"Mari and Misuzu cried. They cried even louder than Tomoya did before Nagase decided to take his place in this world.

"That was when Nagase decided he didn't deserve to live with a family that wasn't his."

* * *

"Did you get your drum beats yet?" Taichi asks, smirking from his keyboard as Matsuoka twirls his stick between his fingers. The look on his face is smug enough that Matsuoka isn't sure he wants to give an answer.

So he doesn't.

Nagase tries out a couple of the guitars in time with Joshima, and within the second verse Yamaguchi decides to join them. Matsuoka's speechless when Taichi happily chimes in with his keyboard.

They all look at Matsuoka expectantly, wanting to hear his own contribution.

All Matsuoka does is hit his cymbal and stand up to leave the room.

* * *

Matsuoka and Nagase go home together again that night. Nagase's face presses into Matsuoka's bicep and he breathes him in. Matsuoka's sure that isn't sanitary on account of all the smoke his shirt no doubt absorbed throughout the night, but all Nagase does is nearly fall over completely--that is, until Matsuoka catches him and props him up against his side again.

"Am I handsome?" Nagase whispers as they wait in front of an empty street crossing. Matsuoka doesn't answer. Even when Nagase's hand slips into Matsuoka's pocket, his warm breath sneaking into his ear as he rests his chin on his shoulder, nothing between them changes.

The pedestrian light goes green, highlighting the silhouette of a walking man. Matsuoka props Nagase up against himself as they go across it together, his arm wrapped steadily around the other man's body.

"I don't want you like that, Nagase," he says in the middle of the stripes lines.

"You _look_ at me," Nagase whispers softly. "You've been looking at me since I got here. You've been letting me _live_ with you. You've seen me _showering_."

Matsuoka doesn't deny any of his claims.

"Don't you want me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

There's five seconds left until the pedestrian light turns red again.

"You kidnapped a little kid named Tomoya and haven't set him free."

Nagase's fingers curl into the fabric of Matsuoka's jacket. His smile kisses against Matsuoka's bicep. And then his smile kisses his mouth.

Matsuoka doesn't pull away, not even when the light turns red. He doesn't kiss back, either.

The street, at least, remains empty.

They don't die that day.

* * *

When Matsuoka wakes up later in the afternoon, Nagase's in bed with him. His arms are wrapped around Nagase's waist, and his face is resting against the back of Nagase's neck.

They're both wearing clothes, though. And it isn't the clothes they came home in.

As he lifts his head, he sees Nagase's still asleep, his own arms wrapped around a pillow.

They just barely fit together on Matsuoka's teeny bed like this, and Matsuoka frowns because his erection is pressed directly against the back of Nagase's thigh.

Not that Nagase would mind, he supposes.

Still, Matsuoka stands to make them breakfast. And Nagase follows into the kitchen at least three minutes later, apologising for sneaking into Matsuoka's bed again.

"You could've kicked me out again. I wouldn't have minded..."

Matsuoka gives him some bacon riceballs wrapped in seaweed.

"I would've minded," he replies. "Eat up, Nagase. We have a long night ahead of us."

Nagase smiles. "Did you finally figure out some drums for the song?"

"Eating up means shutting up and putting food in your stupid mouth."

"I got it, I got it!"

Matsuoka doesn't take his eyes off him until Nagase shoves at least half the rice ball into his mouth. And then keeps looking at him a little longer even after that.

* * *

Joshima approaches him before work starts, his hair in mid-pompadour. Matsuoka tries not to wince at the sight of it, and he resists all the urges he has to reach out and flatten Joshima's hair completely only out of sheer respect.

"Nagase doesn't go home with women any more, does he?" he observes, and both he and Matsuoka watch as Nagase plays on Taichi's keyboard--rather poorly, actually. It's the most barbaric version of Canon in D Matsuoka's ever heard in his entire life.

He nods his head, though. "Yeah. Why're you telling me this?"

Joshima purses his lips. "Because he goes home with _you_."

"I--if you're implying Nagase and I are sleeping together, we sure as hell aren't," Matsuoka argues, feeling the beginning of a headache nudging at his temple. Joshima's face immediately turns pink, and he shakes his head from side to side.

"Of course not!" he offers. "Of course not. I'm just saying that... it was really kind of you to give Nagase a home."

"You would've done it, too," Matsuoka grumbles.

"But Nagase didn't come home to _me_ , did he?"

Nagase's hand slips, his entire palm pressing against maybe five keys at once. Taichi smacks the back of his head and Yamaguchi comes from the bathroom asking what all the ruckus is about. Taichi points almost immediately to Nagase's bewildered face, and Nagase points to Matsuoka.

"Matsuoka's on the other side of the room, dimwit," Taichi huffs.

Nagase just laughs--loud, and happy, and in a way Matsuoka doesn't think he's seen before.

"I just like personally attacking him by pointing, that's all," he says, and now instead of his fingers, his gaze points Matsuoka's way.

Matsuoka hurls his drumstick across the room, but Yamaguchi catches it before it can completely miss Nagase's grinning face.

"Focus on your drum, Matsuoka. You're the reason we can't perform this song yet."

Matsuoka frowns. "Sorry. I'll get it done. Give it to me."

Yamaguchi does, and Matsuoka chews the corner of his lip as he starts to lightly tap on his drums.

"Did you ever hear Nagase laugh like that before?" Joshima asks suddenly, a thoughtful look on his face.

Matsuoka steps into the pedal for his drum at the same time he hits two of his cymbals, and that's enough noise to drown out whatever answers the other members might give.

Nagase's still smiling, and Matsuoka wonders if this was the kid he buried all those years ago.

Because as messed up as it is, he understands why Tomoya got so many looks.

He's so lovely when he's happy.

* * *

The days pass. And then weeks. By the fourth month Johnny-san calls Matsuoka himself to finish the god damn drums so they can finally get a fresh start with their setlist. So he takes it upon himself to stay at the club even after hours to stay with the drumset. Nagase stays with him, too, and he sleeps while leaning against a wall until Matsuoka finally goes home. He doesn't know how Nagase can sleep through all the noise, but the guy always has been pretty good at passing out.

It's the waking up that's hard, but Matsuoka threatens Nagase enough that Nagase knows he'll never carry him no matter what.

Finally, after two weeks of staying after hours, Matsuoka finishes the rhythm he felt he'd been searching for all this time.

The band loves it. Johnny-san loves it. Nagase loves it.

"I always knew your love would find a way!" Nagase exclaims loudly, and Matsuoka kicks him hard enough in the ass that Nagase doesn't walk for five minutes.

It's the most glorifying moment he's ever had since he's met him.

* * *

Transistor G Girl debuts to a stunning applause. With a song made by Nagase himself in a range he's comfortable with, he sounds so much better. The crowd goes wild, and it's almost as if Nagase's a new employee again. Matsuoka no longer watches him during club hours, and Nagase no longer allows hands and fingers to crawl over his chest or under his shirt.

Yamaguchi entertains his usual set of businessmen, discussing the fine art of gambling. Taichi laughs and smiles with the women that surround his keyboard. Joshima, on the other hand... seems to be yelling into his mobile phone again, which Matsuoka supposes might never change for as long as they work here.

Towards the end of the night, the last crowd of guests is small. It's really just Yamaguchi and one or two other men, Joshima passed out on a sofa, and Taichi having gone home with another girl.

Matsuoka's got nobody left to entertain, so he works on cleaning the floors. He sees Nagase out of the corner of his eye still with a girl and shakes his head from side to side. Really--some things never change.

Except... when he finishes polishing down the bar along with the bartender, he gets a tap on the shoulder. Knowing if it were any of his workmates, he'd get called by name, Matsuoka starts with a "Sorry, look, the club's closing and--"

Halfway through turning around he sees Nagase without his make-up, his hair flat instead of spiked up, and a purple t-shirt Matsuoka knows is his on his torso along with a simple pair of jeans. Nagase offers him a small smile, and it's strange how much Matsuoka feels like he's standing in his flat even surrounded by all the bottles of alcohol and all the swanky material.

"Can't you make one exception, Matsuoka-san?" Nagase asks.

Matsuoka hesitates, unsure what game he's playing, before he lets go of his washing rag and nods his head.

* * *

When the man first sits beside him within Glamour, his hands linked together and a sheepish expression on his face, Matsuoka knows almost immediately that he likes him. He's tall and long-legged, the right dab of masculine, has expressive brown eyes that could be killer with the right make-up--and he knows even before the stranger asks him if he knew a man named Nagase that he's going to be important. It doesn't matter what the man's true intentions are. Regardless of his choice, he'll be someone Matsuoka wants to get to know intimately.

The lilt of the guy's voice when he speaks is high, perhaps higher than Matsuoka would have expected from a face like that. He takes his eyes off of the brightness of the man's expression, off the silly fringe that falls over his forehead, and gestures to himself when the man asks who the band's drummer is.

"Nagase told me you wanted him to let me free," he says, smiling awkwardly.

"Did he?" Matsuoka asks plainly.

"Hmmm." The guy's teeth are white and straight, but Matsuoka can tell where he brushed too hard the day before he left for work--right above his canine where the gums are redder than usual. "He told me that if I told you who I was, I'd be able to live with you."

Matsuoka doesn't know what to think of the awkward quality of the man's voice at the word 'you', nor at the way the man's eyes immediately shift to look down at his lap before trying to find Matsuoka's gaze once more. He doesn't get the chance to mull about it further before the man clears his throat and speaks again.

"My name is Tomoya," he mutters. "And I--"

"I've been waiting for you to show yourself," Matsuoka interjects. "For a while now."

Tomoya's expression softens. "You have?"

"I have." Matsuoka's own lips form a small smile, and he decides that that settles that. He doesn't think he's capable of any more shows of emotion without crying or anything, and that's just embarrassing.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Can we quit the metaphorical shit, Naga--"

"What?"

"It's late, Nagase."

"What was that?"

"It's _late_ , Nagase. We should go home so we can sle--"

" _Tomoya_ ," he argues immediately once he realises Matsuoka won't get it. "Call me Tomoya now or so help me."

"Tomoya," Matsuoka deadpans. "Tomoya the brat."

"Just Tomoya."

"Let's go home."

"Not until you call me Tomoya!"

Matsuoka opens his mouth to argue until he's shut up quickly by lips against his own.

He kisses back this time.

"... Tomoya," he mutters begrudgingly.

Matsuoka gets the most idiotic smile from the most idiotic person in the world in return.

He can't look away. But he isn't so bothered by that any more.


End file.
